Mariella Frostrup: The gift of experience is the best present

A painters pallette. Photo / Mike Petrucci

Picking a present for her husband's 50th makes Mariella Frostrup realise that the most memorable gifts involve trying something new with your loved ones.

Trying to make my husband's recent 50th live up to his trauma at reaching "middle-age" proved a challenge. I found myself stuck for a suitable present from our daughter, who in myopic teenage fashion had given it barely a thought until a week before when she entered full panic mode. What on earth to give a father that wouldn't merely swell the catalogue of "things" accrued over two collecting lifetimes, already bursting from every cupboard, flat surface and scrap of wall space in our overstuffed home?

We needed something that would make a lasting impression and bring equal joy to two people separated by a 35-year age gap. My own indelibly stamped moments have occurred on a particular kind of trip, where the ambition was to come home with more to show for the experience than a few snapshots, a fading tan and a depleted bank balance.

Reminiscing with friends and ex-lovers, children and other family members invariably starts with: "Do you remember when we went to ... ?" (insert "obtain our powerboat licence in Salcombe"; "that boot camp in Brazil"; "that writing course in Skiathos"; "learn to sail in Lymington"; "cook fresh pasta in Sicily"; "grow vegetables in Wales"). Such holidays, marked by a quest for new knowledge or skills — no matter how spurious, superficial or utterly absurd — have always proved unforgettable, though not always for the best reasons.

How could I forget my sister flying through the sail of her own Hobie Cat, arms outstretched like a cartoon character as she undertook a rather too speedy beach landing? Or kayaking home with my friend Catherine on an ocean twinkling brighter even than the night sky above, in a shower of phosphorescence on the still waters of Angra dos Reis in Brazil?

Googling for inspiration for my birthday boy, I found myself spoilt for choice when it came to holiday learning and exploring subjects where his and our daughter's interests collide: food and art. I debated long and hard whether to send them on the parent-and-child cooking course I'd once enjoyed at Le Manoir aux Quat'Saisons in Oxfordshire, or further afield at Ballymaloe House in County Cork, or one of a host of hands-on weekends aimed at mastering skills from figure drawing to pottery.

In the end, Newlyn School of Art in Cornwall (a county famous for its appeal to painters and a magnet for art lovers) won the day. There were plenty of courses throughout the summer season, from capturing seascapes to mastering oils, and from "using colour" to learning to sketch. By the time I'd selected a gorgeous waterside B&B 30 minutes' drive away in Mousehole, I was virtually patting myself on the back.

What better way to celebrate a landmark birthday than by enjoying quality time with your child, immersing yourselves in a hobby you love — or want to master — while enjoying a seaside break? As we become increasingly aware of our carbon footprint, thinking hard about why we travel and making it matter more when we do seem like healthy criteria.

Having found a solution for my husband, I'm considering a little splurge on myself. Last year, Yeotown was my favoured post-summer recovery programme; this year, River Cottage has caught my eye. Its blend of cookery, mindfulness and foraging on the Jurassic coast seems the perfect way to kick-start autumn brimful of new skills and good intentions.

Then again, maybe I could hone my inner artist at the Arniano Painting School in Tuscany. Or perhaps I could learn to kitesurf in Cape Town, write a bestselling novel on an Arvon Foundation weekend (or maybe just a haiku!) or master French over a week in Arles ...

One of the most debilitating aspects of growing older is the sense that you are no longer on a journey but have very much arrived. Embarking on any adventure where you pick up new skills has to be one of the best ways to keep yourself young at heart. Or at least that's what I will be telling my husband as I pack him off to Cornwall with his paintbrushes.

— Telegraph Media Group